Peanut Butter Chocolate & Murder Read online

  “Right,” Peters said. “So, the thread was probably dropped there close to the time of the murder.”

  Peters said that he was going to do some follow-up work on the thread, while Ryan said he would look into the dating website. Chief Chet retreated to his office.

  After promising to tell them about what the medical examiner said, the detectives set out to follow their leads. Heather and Amy stood together.

  “What lead are we going to follow?” Amy asked. “Could it involve getting some lunch?”

  “We can get some lunch,” Heather said. “On our way to see the architect offices on the island.”

  “We’re not upgrading our house, are we?” Amy teased.

  “Nope,” Heather said. “We’re going to see if we can figure out where the victim worked, and then we can figure out who Henry Don really is.”

  The Job Search

  “I’m glad we got lunch,” Amy said. “Otherwise, I might find this discouraging.”

  Heather let out a sigh mixed with a laugh. “I didn’t realize there were so many architecture firms on the island. Luckily, there’s only one more left.”

  “Yeah. Why did it have to be the last one we check that we be where he worked? We should have gone in some other sort of order.”

  “I just hope that he really does work here,” Heather said, walking towards the firm Wallenbach and Associates Architecture.

  Amy stopped mid-step. “What do you mean? You think that he doesn’t work here? Then, why are we wasting our time?”

  “He told Bernadette he was an architect,” Heather said. “We need to check it out. Besides, based on some details he told her in their messages, it did sound like he knew some things about the firms on the island.”

  Amy groaned. “I know a lot about dogs because of Miss Marshmallow and Jamie’s grooming business, so I could pretend to be a vet if I wanted to impress someone. You think it’s that sort of thing?”

  “I think we should talk to Wallenbach and Associates and see if they know the victim,” Heather said.

  “Fine,” Amy said. “But the main reason I’m agreeing isn’t out of enthusiasm, but because this is the last stop.”

  “Fair enough.”

  They opened the glass door at Wallenbach and Associates Architecture and walked into the ornate lobby.

  “Wow,” Amy said. “This is the nicest office building we’ve seen. If we ever do remodel, we should talk to these guys.”

  A woman with short hair and a big smile greeted them from behind a desk.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  “Probably not,” Amy said. “It’s probably all a wild goose chase.”

  “Are you looking for a contractor that left you in the lurch?” the woman asked, sympathetically.

  “We are looking for someone,” Heather said. “We’d like to know if he ever worked here.”

  “I’ve worked here since this place opened eight years ago,” she said. “So, I should know who it is. Is there some sort of trouble with your house plans?”

  “A different sort of trouble,” Heather said.

  She showed the picture that “Henry Don” had used on his dating profile to the woman at the desk. Heather was very glad that they had this picture, so they didn’t have to use an edited version of the crime scene picture.

  The young woman examined it and smiled. “This looks like a cheesy picture someone would use on a dating site.”

  Amy tried to contain her laughter.

  “Do you recognize him?” Heather asked.

  “He doesn’t work here,” she responded. “And I don’t believe he ever did. He’s not one of our architects or related to Mr. Wallenbach. He wasn’t an assistant or an intern. But there is something familiar about him.”

  “So, you have seen him before?” Heather pressed.

  “I think so, but I can’t quite put my finger on where.”

  “Could he be a client here?” asked Heather.

  The woman thought about it and then shook her head. “I don’t think that’s where I know him from.”

  They tried a few more techniques to try and jog the woman’s memory. Amy succeeded in getting her to laugh, but they couldn’t come up with any more answers. They thanked the young woman and left the office.

  Heather was feeling disappointed. They had spent most of the day, trying to uncover this man’s identity and it had been a waste of time.

  “Feeling blue?” Amy asked.

  Heather nodded. She knew she couldn’t hide it from her best friend.

  “Me too,” Amy agreed. “Our lead was a dead end. My feet are tired. And I don’t think I’m going to get a proposal anytime soon. I know that last part doesn’t have anything to do with the case, but it is on my mind.”

  “So, what should we do now?” Heather asked. Then, as she looked further down the street, she saw a potential answer. “Want to get a coffee at that little café over there?”

  “It’s not quite a diamond, but I like the idea,” Amy joked.

  They walked over to the café and placed their order. Though Heather usually liked sweet things, she opted for a black coffee that day. She wanted to experience the full flavor of the coffee that day and have as much caffeine as possible. She suspected she already wouldn’t get much sleep that night, thinking about the murdered man and how her friend was sad. She might as well be alert and able to ponder the clues.

  She also thought the café would appreciate an easy order. The barista behind the counter looked weary.

  “I’m sorry for the delay,” the barista said, handing over their coffees. “We’re short-staffed today. My co-worker never showed up for his shift, so I’ve been running around by myself filling all the orders.”

  “You handed me a coffee, so I’m happy,” Amy said, reassuring her.

  An idea popped into Heather’s head, and she had to ask. “You said your coworker didn’t come in today?”

  “That’s right,” said the barista. “Didn’t pick up his phone either.”

  Heather showed her the same picture that she had shown the woman at the architecture firm. “There’s no chance that this is your coworker, is it?”

  “Yeah!” The barista said, after taking a look. “Maybe it’s from a few years ago. He looks a little younger there. But that’s Donald.”

  “You’re sure?” asked Heather.

  “Definitely. We’ve worked together a few years.”

  “And he’s a barista too?” Amy asked. “Not an architect?”

  “Right,” said the barista with a laugh. “Of course, I don’t know for sure that he’ll be able to keep his job after this no-call no-show. He better have a pretty good reason for not showing up at work today.”

  “Oh, he does,” Amy said, grimly. “He does.”

  Secrets and Identity

  Heather made sure to pick up some more donuts before they headed back to the station to keep Chief Chet in a happy mood. She was feeling in a happy mood herself after checking on her donut shop. Her assistants were whipping up the new flavor with great skill, and they reported that her online orders had skyrocketed recently. It seemed that a Peanut Butter Festival had placed a large order for this new donut and planned on featuring it.

  As she and Amy entered the police station, her happy thoughts about Donut Delights dissipated. She was focused on the case again. They had discovered some more information about the victim, but they still had a lot of work to do.

  “I’m happy to see you,” Chief Chet said with a glowing smile when he saw them approach.

  “You know you could always run to Donut Delights yourself,” Amy said, crossing her arms.

  “No. This isn’t just about the donuts,” Chief Chet said, looking a little abashed. “Though I do love when they are here. It’s also about what you did for the case. Ryan told me how you found out the victim’s name by finding out where he worked.”

  “That’s right,” Heather said. “Only he didn’t work we were expected. He lied about being an architect.
He actually worked at the coffee shop next door.”

  “And that’s why the lady at Wallenbach and Associates thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place him,” Amy said. “She probably got coffee from him before but was only thinking about people she met at the office. Or she never gave him her full attention when she went into the café. Do you think that happens at Donut Delights? Do you think people don’t remember me after they leave?”

  “You’re unforgettable, Ames,” Heather assured her.

  “Well,” Chief Chet said, trying to focus on business. “You did good work finding out the victim’s identity. That dating website has been giving Ryan the run around today.”

  Ryan entered the room, looking a tad disgruntled. He started smiling when he saw his wife, and he walked over to join the group.

  “Any luck?” asked Heather.

  Ryan shook his head. “I thought finding out the victim’s real name would help us convince the site to give us access to his account, but they’re claiming that they want to protect his privacy. We’re going to have to get a warrant to see who he was messaging.”

  Chief Chet checked his watch. “It’s probably too late in the day to get one, but I’ll make some calls.”

  Heather anticipated what else he was thinking and said, “But it’s not too late in the day for a donut. Why don’t you take one?”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he agreed. He selected a donut and then headed to his office.

  Ryan took a donut as well and thanked the P.I. bakers.

  “I could use one of these. It’s been a frustrating day trying to get access to the dating site info. They kept passing me off to different executives and finally decided to stonewall me. I hope Chief Chet can get a warrant quickly. Because this seems like the best lead we have.” He took a bite of his donut, trying to cheer himself up. “I feel like I haven’t accomplished very much today.”

  “We felt that way when we were looking at the architecture firms,” Heather admitted. “But doing the legwork ended up leading to a clue.”

  “And it was a great one,” said Ryan. “Finding out his real name, Donald Hen, is really helpful. Peters is looking into the next of kin now. I was stuck on the phone, so he decided to do it.”

  Heather smiled. “Peters is taking more and more initiative at work. I think you’ve been a good influence on him and made him more confident.”

  Ryan waved off the compliment. “He’s a good detective in his own right. And he’s probably discovered more information today that I did.”

  “What did he find?” asked Heather.

  “He spoke with some people at the lab and found out more about the red thread found at the crime scene,” Ryan reported. “It seems like it came from a ribbon.”

  “A ribbon?” asked Amy.

  Ryan nodded. “Like you might wear in your hair or use for decorations.”

  “That makes it sound like a female suspect is more viable,” said Heather.

  “Which is why I want to find out more about the dates that Donald Hen went on and more about his stalker,” said Ryan.

  “These are certainly a lot of potential female suspects,” said Heather.

  “Right,” Amy agreed. “A female stalker. A bad date.”

  “What about an ex-wife?” Detective Peters asked, rushing up to them.

  “An ex-wife might certainly have a motive to kill,” said Ryan.

  “But the victim told Bernadette was a widower,” said Heather. “That was a lie?”

  “He’s no longer married, but it’s not because his wife died,” Peters said, trying to catch his breath after his enthusiastic run. “He got divorced two years ago. And his ex still lives on the island. Monique Hen.”

  “That’s great work,” Ryan said.

  “And a great new prime suspect,” said Heather.

  Don’s Tricks

  It was hard to wait to talk to the new suspect, but they decided it was for the best if they spoke to her first thing the next morning. Heather spent the rest of the evening with her daughter, listening to her newest dinosaur detective story that she had written on her pink typewriter.

  After Lilly had gone to bed, Heather sat on the couch with her dog. She was regretting having so much coffee late in the day. She thought that it would help keep her sharp and allow her extra time to think about the case. Instead, she felt tired but wasn’t able to fall asleep.

  When Ryan came home late that night, he said he felt in a similar mood. The couple decided to sit out in their backyard and look at the stars to take their mind off of the tricky case. Dave joined them.

  As Heather cuddled up next to her husband, she felt at peace. She wished that she could help make Bernadette feel at peace too, but realized that would have to be her project starting in the morning. A shooting star raced across the sky.

  “Did you make a wish?” Ryan asked.

  Heather nodded. “I’m afraid it was just about solving the case quickly. I didn’t wish for a million dollars or anything like that.”

  “I did the same thing,” said Ryan. “My life is pretty great already with you and Lilly and our friends.”

  Dave barked, and they both started petting the dog.

  “And with you too, Dave,” he said.

  They smiled and continued staring at the sky.

  The next morning, they felt like their wish was starting to come true. It wasn’t any information to break the case wide open, but they found out more about the gun used to kill the victim.

  “It was a 9mm gun used,” said Ryan. “That’s a popular model, so I’m not sure that it weeds anyone out.”

  “But now that we know what type was used we can ask the ex-wife about her access to one,” said Heather. “That might be useful.”

  Ryan agreed. After finishing their morning routine and getting Lilly to school, they joined up with Amy and Detective Peters to talk to the ex-wife.

  “Monique Hen?” Ryan asked when a woman opened her front door.

  She stared at them through heavily shaded eyelids. Her hair was piled on top of her head, and she was holding a Bloody Mary in her hand.

  “Who wants to know?”

  “I’m Detective Shepherd, and this is Detective Peters. Accompanying us are two fine private investigators who have assisted us on prior cases. We’d like to talk to you about your ex-husband.”

  “Old Donny?” she asked, taking a big swig of her drink. “What trouble did he get himself into now?”

  “What makes you ask that?” Heather said.

  “Donny wasn’t always best friends with the truth,” she said with a wry smile. “I’m guessing it finally caught up with him.”

  “It might have,” said Ryan. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Donald Hen was murdered.”

  “Murdered?” she asked, turning pale. She swallowed the rest of her drink. She started into her house, saying, “You better come inside.”

  She went directly to her kitchen and started pouring herself another drink.

  “Do you want a drink?” she asked.

  “We’re on duty, ma’am,” Peters said.

  “And it’s a little early in the day for me,” Amy quipped.

  “Well, excuse me,” Monique said, continuing to make her drink. “I just found out my ex is dead.”

  Heather refrained from saying that Monique already had a drink before they entered. Instead, she asked, “Do you know anyone who would have wanted to hurt your ex?”

  Monique shrugged. “He could be so charming, but he could also be so full of it. I got tired, and I could see others getting annoyed too. But I wouldn’t have thought he could have gotten killed because of it.”

  “Did you know he was dating again?” Ryan asked.

  “I haven’t spoken him since the divorce,” Monique said. “Maybe a hello if we saw each other at the store, but nothing of substance. I didn’t know he was dating, but it doesn’t surprise me. We’re both relatively young. And he didn’t like being alone.”

  “So, you woul
dn’t know anything about the people he might have been dating?” asked Ryan. “Or that he was trying online dating?”

  “No,” Monique said. “But again, it doesn’t seem strange. And I’m sure I know exactly what he did when he tried to impress these dates. It’s the same thing he did with me.”

  “Which was what?” asked Heather.

  “He’d tweak things to make it sound more impressive. But he always made sure that he had some knowledge to back it up.”

  “He must have said he was an architect because he knew about the building down the street from where he really worked,” said Amy. “He could describe the building and who was there.”

  “When we started dating, he told me that he was an importer of fine coffee grounds. It did sound more impressive than a barista. But I got tired of all the stories. I wanted the truth.”

  “What else did he lie about?” asked Heather.

  “I was a fan of cocktails, so he tried to impress me with his knowledge of them. He told me he had a friend from school who was a bartender and that he learned it all. Really he had a book that he would peek at to provide his tidbits of information. At first, after I learned about it, I tried to look at it as something sweet that he did to impress me. But then I started to wonder why he needed to come up with a story about it.”

  “Did he ever lie about his name?” asked Ryan.

  “I don’t think so. But he was never a fan of the name Hen. Kids used to tease him when he was little and call him a chicken.”

  “Kids can be so cruel,” Amy said. “But I guess, maybe, this murderer is a little crueler.”

  Monique took another sip of her drink and then plopped into a seat at the kitchen table. The others gathered around her.

  “Did Donald Hen ever mention a stalker?” asked Peters.

  Monique laughed. “No. Who would want to stalk him?”

  Heather considered this response. She still didn’t know enough about Donald Hen to decide what would make someone want to stalk him. She would need to discover whether this stalker story was real or something that Donald had made up.

  “We just have a few more questions,” Ryan said. “First, I’d like to know where you were on Saturday night?”